Someone Saved My Life Tonight
by THERExistsAstar
Summary: [LAST LIGHT] Oneshot. A man is faced with his own upcoming death until a woman saves his life and unknowingly saves his heart as well. What would've happened if a lawyer had stopped and really cared enough to save Denver Bayliss.


Denver Bayliss read the same line in his book over and over, trying to understand what it meant, or what it said, for that matter.

But the printed words could do nothing to comfort or distract him. In anger, he threw the book across the small cell, watching it hit the bars across from him before it smacked against the concrete floor below.

Again in anger, he lifted his head and smashed it back down onto the pillow, trying to rid his mind of thoughts of the governor, a chance to get off the Row, and Miss Winifred Moran.

He cursed his luck as he realized he had no cigarettes to calm his nerves.

He wondered as to what could be happening at that very moment in the state capital. Could the governor be discussing how he, Denver Bayliss, deserved to die? Most likely he was, Denver concluded. In fact, Denver almost agreed with the governor.

Of course, Winifred Moran disagreed, whole-heartedly. Just the thought of her face hardening when he had mentioned his agreement with his punishment made him let out a small laugh. He never really knew if she was really against the death penalty or just against him receiving it. He told himself it was either the latter or both.

He could picture Winifred working her magic on the governor, swaying him to her side, certainly using her absolutely charming southern drawl accent to make Denver sound as sweet as pie. She had such a way with words, she could probably charm angels out of Heaven if she wanted to.

Denver had learned the hard way just how good Winifred was with words and actions. She was so good sometimes she did not even realize she was persuading someone into something. Case-in-point, she had never meant for a convicted murderer to fall in love with her but neither had he. But the way she talked about the whole case, it was seemed more like a story than reality and Denver had become fascinated with the tale, so much so he had slowly softened to the story's obvious heroine, which was Winifred herself.

He allowed himself to be comforted by the thought of just her - no governor, no lawyer tricks, no mention of capital punishment.

He thought of her auburn hair, her soft curls caressing her shoulders, almost mocking him since he knew he could not do that very thing. He thought of her porcelain skin, covered in small freckles. He thought of how some might not call her slender or slim but how he saw her hourglass figure as perfect, she had curves in all the right places. He thought of her face, how some might not think it the most beautiful in the world but still, it could turn heads. Denver would constantly let his gaze flow across her face, taking in her full lips and blue eyes, the dimples that would appear whenever she smiled. The only thing that bothered him was as his eyes would drift down her left arm, past her wrist, he would spot, sitting on her ring finger, a large engagement ring; it had always been there - he told himself it was to remind him of what he could never have.

He knew it was foolish to dream such things as if they were possible, seeing as she was one of a very few women he had ever come in contact with and that, out of all of them, she was the finest. But also, she was out of his league, as they say.

Even though he considered himself an intelligent man, Denver knew she far surpassed his knowledge. While he sat behind bars, she attended high school, college, and then law school. She even proved her astounding intelligence by getting him not one, but _two_, re-trials. She had re-tried his first two murders, both in which she claimed _and_ proved self-defense. She spoke with such passion and such eloquence that it was hard for anyone, especially twelve of Denver's "peers", to ignore her request for innocence. And no one denied her that, leaving Denver convicted of only two murders; one, of course, still being a murder in the first-degree, leaving him with the electric chair still looming in his future.

His life had ended when he was only fourteen years old and hers was only just beginning, he would never want to spoil that. But could she ever _really_ love him? Love him like Juliet loved Romeo?

Thinking it over again, he hoped she never did. He knew he was sure to fry and if she was his Juliet, she would end up following him to the afterlife and he did not want that for her.

He laughed again at how pitiful he felt at thinking such wondrous things.

Denver soon feel into a deep slumber, though it still was restless.

When he woke up, he could see the sun had already left the sky and left it gray. He wondered how much longer he was going to have to wait.

He didn't know yet if he had a few more days or a few more years left on this earth and he prayed he had years left, instead of days. But when Fred Whitmore finally came walking down the corridor towards cell number 107, Denver knew his answer had arrived.

"Your lawyer's here."  
Denver looked him over and knew it was not good, "You tell me."

Denver did not want to have to put Winifred through having to tell him, he did not want to see her facial expression. He did not want to see the sadness at her own defeat and the guilt at the fact that, because of her, Denver had to die. It was not her fault and he did not want her to have to feel that it was.

Fred shook his head, "She should be the one to tell ya. That's not my job."  
"Come on," Denver pleaded.  
"I _really_ don't know, she wouldn't tell me, she wanted to tell you first. You better go and see her."

Denver was not sure if he should be happy because he would get to see her face one more time or angry that he had to wait even longer to know his fate.

Denver pushed himself off his bed and turned his back to Fred.

"Open 107!"

Soon, Denver was in handcuffs and being escorted to the same room he always visited Winifred in.

As he walked past the two way mirror and saw she was not facing the door; in fact, she was pacing on the opposite side of the room, her head down, and fingers dancing across the table top.

But when the door opened, she turned quickly and the only noise that could be heard was the sound of her dress fluttering and the clinking of Denver's restraints.

Denver moved to his usual seat, only taking into account Winifred's outfit, which was much too formal for a simple prison visit. He concluded she must have come straight from her meeting with the governor. Why, he did not know.

She did not sit though, she simply kept standing, watching her fingers move across the table.

"Denver, I tried everything I could. I used every resource I could. I flirted, I made him feel guilty, I reasoned, but," she sighed and he knew this was it, his final meeting with her had arrived, "I couldn't get you clemency."

Denver's head fell at the news and he wished he had just stayed in his cell.

His eyes looked up to see her fingers had made their way to his shadow on the table, meaning she was merely inches from him. He could feel the heat from her body from the closeness and it made his heart beat grow faster as he looked up into her blue eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed when she smiled, "...I could only get your execution suspended."  
Now his eyebrows rose in surprise, "_What?_"  
"You're going to live, Denver! You're going to _live!"_ she threw her arms around him, beaming.

He wished he could have returned the embrace but the handcuffs prevented such an act but he took pleasure in the fact that her body was pressed up against his.

"S-so what's going to happen to me?" he asked as she pulled away and took her seat across from him.  
She grinned, "I really don't know how I did it but I got you twenty-five years to life. I know it doesn't sound like much but that means you'll be up for parole in three years!"

Twenty minutes ago, Denver Bayliss had been sure he would be seeing the end of his life in only a matter of days but now- _now_ there was a possibility of seeing the sky again, free of barbed wire and high fences; he would be able to walk wherever he wanted to without cuffs on; he would be able to be _free_.

"Denver?" Winifred's voice came drifting into his reverie, "Denver? _Please_, believe me, it's something to be _happy_ about! You're going to be moved to main population, you could actually get out of here!"

He looked up, back to reality, and shifted so his hands were on top of the table. He opened his palm, indicating for her to place her hand in his. He smiled when she did.

"I know. You got me everything I wanted-"  
"But I didn't get you clem-"  
"_You saved my life,_ Winifred."

They both stopped to let what Denver had just said sink in. But then Denver to let out the loudest laugh Winifred had ever heard him utter. He also got up from his chair and rushed over to her, rather boldly. In his excitement, he managed to pull her to him and lean down, pushing his lips onto hers in a rather rough kiss.

Within seconds, Fred had stormed into the room to pull Denver from the young woman but Denver had already separated from her, leaving her with her hands up, eyes wide, and mouth agape in shock.

"I told you not to do that again!" Fred grabbed Denver by the neck but stopped when a small, gentle hand was placed on his chest.  
"It's alright, Fred. He didn't mean any harm by it, he just got a little excited."  
"Fred, man, I'm not going to fry!"

Fred relaxed and went over the news in his head. He was not sure how to feel. He did not like lawyers who told sob stories to get killers free but Denver did not deserve half of the things that had happened to him and Fred could not ignore that.

"Well, congratulations," he said solemnly before nodding to both parties and then leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

With his departure, both Winifred and Denver looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry about-"  
She put a hand up, signaling him to stop, "It's okay, Denver. No apologies necessary."

The laughter stopped some time later, leaving them both trying to catch their breath.

"You look real pretty," Denver said as he sat back down.  
She grinned, "Oh thanks. You don't know how long I spent in fron- Oh, I'm sorry, I'm going on about me. It's you who should be babbling on!"  
"No, no, go ahead, please."  
She grinned again, "I spent hours in front of my mirror. I heard the governor had a weak spot for pretty ladies."  
"Well, we both know it worked."  
"Thank God too. I mean, I would've done _anything_ to get you anywhere near free but I'm glad it didn't have to go _that_ far."  
"You were going to sleep with the governor?"  
The door opened and Fred's head poked in, "Miss Moran, I'm sorry but visiting hours are almost over."  
She grinned as she stood up, "How many times do I have to tell you, Fred? You can call me Winifred."  
He nodded, "_Winifred_, it's almost time to be going."

She nodded, knowing he was right. Denver stood to meet her and see her off as far as he could.

Winifred tried to ignore any feelings that might be welling up inside her for this man who had been broken long before he ever entered this facility though he tried to mask it. There was no use in getting caught up in emotion now.

She did fuss over him for a bit, pushing his hair back and patting down the shoulders of his orange jumpsuit. He watched her closely as she did so, immersed in her motions.

Finally, she looked up into his eyes, "I wonder what you'd look like without facial hair. I bet you'd look cute."  
"I love you."  
She smiled, "I know."  
"_Well?_ Do you love me back?"  
"I'll write and visit you as often as I can, okay?"

He knew he was not going to get an answer, at least not today so he only nodded to her question.

She stepped back and turned to leave. But when she reached the door Fred had opened for her, she stopped and turned back towards Denver.

"Oh, and to answer _other_ your question. Yes, I would've done it, if it would've helped in saving your life."

She grinned and again was about to leave when it was if she had remembered something and stopped. But she had forgotten something.

She rummaged through her purse before pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"I picked these up for you on the way here. I figured you were probably out," she smiled and tossed them over to him.

He somehow managed to catch them and smiled down at them, his smile growing into a grin. She really was an angel, a beautiful angel sent to him. Not only had she saved his life today but she had practically read his mind and gotten him the one thing he could receive in prison that he needed. It may have seemed insignificant to others, but to Denver it was a sign that though Winifred Moran would not admit it, somewhere inside her she loved Denver Bayliss.


End file.
